Burning Vegas Lights
by Artemis Halenthal
Summary: You can't burn time, you can waste it. In the Mojave, there's plenty of time to waste, except when Vegas is the first stop and the only thing between you and deep sleep is the unknown quantity of what you're running out of that's expendable in the first place.
1. Chapter 1

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter One- Alpha}

The sun had not risen yet above the Mojave, and yet the air was burning like the fireball that had only started to peek from the dry and calloused ridges that rose above the equally dry and calloused land. Sandstorms were quite common among the dry Lake Ivanpah- spinning and twisting, slowing down caravan traffic, picking up every single cursed and unloved piece of sand and dust that was seemingly damned to an eternity as such. Light scattered upon the grains as the wind howled wildly within the choking dustbowl, weathering down pre-existing rocks or covering skeletons of both animal and human who were long ago asphyxiated and delirious from dehydration and the fine dust filling their lungs and throat. When storms like those arrived and tormented the subtle life of the Mojave, everything seemed to cease except for the slightest of gunfire in the distance and the weak Vegas lights- a paradise among a walk of fire and brimstone.

Among the timeworn New Vegas Strip, lined up like the hookers in the lustrous, but venerable, streets below were the casinos that might have once been famous for better food and great times but now only provided a refuge for the scandalous and glamorous fast-living city dwellers, who very much enjoyed the protection that the concrete walls gave against the outside world. Mainly populated by the NCR and their political play fort, the peace has been kept only by treaties and agreements between one very mysterious benefactor, Mr. House, and Ambassador Crocker. But life, if it hadn't ceased to exist like the noise far away from the 'city' and it's numerous stone paneling's to keep out the many dangers of the nuclear wasteland, it most likely {undoubtedly} would continue in its steady pace to recovery from the most major 'extinction' event. The world kept spinning on its slowly shifting axis, turning round and round at its own pace since no one seemed to care of the time; letting what little seasons pass in the Mojave, and letting everything settle down into place as hell rained down upon a grouping of two soldiers.

.308 casings hit the ground and clattered with the broken pavement, rolling into blood of both parties. The flare and glare of both lens and scope radiated with the slowly creeping morning light of the sun that finally decided to blaze upon the brow of her spotter, who would most likely have a hard time doing his job now. Exhausting air from her lungs, the aura of the one-hour weekend seemed to end here at a midriff, killing the Jet in Rene's system and causing her to shake slightly from the abrupt conclusion of her feet tripping light and falling back into the combat where bullets zinged past her head and into the cracked brick pressed behind her back. Feeling the pressure build up behind her forehead, Rene wanted to vomit from the heat- but not in the middle of combat. It'd have to simply wait until Boone had dispatched of her vexations.

Doubling over in a fit of coughing, Rene felt her throat tighten up, with her lungs wanting to constrict as well. She coughed, wiping her eyes of the tears that had formed from her congestion, and sat herself against the wall that was pockmarked with bullet holes and stained with copious amounts of who-knows-what. Trying to clear her throat, she let the shade try and lull her to sleep, wanting to make up for all that she lost the night before when traveling down the Long 15. Sleep, though, wasn't tolerated out in the open and she found herself being dragged to her feet by the large guy. Trying to take her wrist back without bruising it or hurting herself, Rene simply tried to focus on the road ahead.

She missed the sensation of tripping light.

Letting cloudless sky meander on in what seemed like a never-ending ocean that bled into the torrid ground, she continued, stripping off unnecessary layers and dropping junk here and there from her backpack. Digging into her pack, she pulled out two warm bottles of water, tossing one to Boone, who gave a curt nod and opened it swiftly, downing half of it. Rene sipped hers slowly, tasting how salty it was. It was the best damn salt water she had so far, and it wasn't going to waste. Pushing her brown mane of hair over her left shoulder, tossed the plastic to the side of the road, and the blaze of light in the sky not even wanting to waver or give mercy upon her sunburnt skin.

Boone watched the roads for any sign of hazard, peering through his scope every now and then. {Ree-ne... or was it Rah-nay?} Rene didn't look too good, she was flushed of color except the red patch of burnt skin and her eyes were glossy. The water helped her quite a bit- she was like a droopy, dehydrated flower. Rene's hazel eyes fixed upon the breakage in the pavement that was burning hot, with her feet carrying her as much as they could. When he was with the NCR, they'd pushed him to the limits- how the hell did this girl who was a lot younger than he get passed into the army if she can't walk half a mile without wanting to rest? Maybe she was sick- he hoped not, but it could be that she had come down with something bad.

Boone strode alongside the girl, no older than 20, who had dropped out of basic med school for the Followers and the NCR Army {she was honorably discharged, as far as she had told him}. Her thin, branchlike wrists carried a heavy rifle she didn't even bother to sling on her back most of the time, and was always being maintained by Rene, unlike his rifle that was held together by ducttape. Hell of a shot, she was, but he could actually find the targets for her to kill if need be. And she was short. About 5'3", or so, but that was pretty damn short.

The outline of New Vegas was on the horizon, but their journey only began from there- or it would- they'd have to get a place to stop because at this point, Rene looked dead tired. Who cared if it was the middle of the day she decided to sleep during? Time didn't have a place in the Mojave; no one ever seemed to know what it was.  
No one seemed to care what time was.


	2. Chapter 2

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter Two- Ardency}

The Strip was slicked with the humidity, that produced condensation due to the air pollution by smoke of fires. In short, the place was damnably hot, even for the end of summer that seemed to never end. Seasons were not very variable within _nuclear_ wastelands- but there was a slight chill factor within the air that the tilting of Earth produced, but to most people it was just the Mojave shifting places with Wyoming and possibly even Colorado. To some people the Mojave was the only place on the Earth left, or was just the Earth itself; not even wondering what was just beyond the horizon {with the exception of California}. Those people, quite frankly, were rather stupid.

No-one blamed stupidity on the hellhole educational system of the NCR and whatever other "schooling" was available from pre-war books; it was always 'diagnosed' within certain people by 'fuh-zis-shuns'. Most people don't even want to get on about the politics, but it's most easily explained by Brahmin:

New California Republic: You have _two_ Brahmin. Your neighbor has none. You feel guilty for being successful. You vote people into office who tax your Brahmin, forcing you to sell one to raise money to pay the tax. The people you voted for then take the tax money and buy a Brahmin and give it to your neighbor. You feel righteous.

Caesar's Legion: You have _one_ bull. You worship it.

Chem Fiends: You have two Brahmin. That one on the left is kinda cute.

While the party of most people agree that you don't need an education to understand and grasp the simple atrocity of what governments was left, the some people party just wanted to crack open another bottle of 200-something year old bear and tell the story about a hooker, some caps, and how they dared her to piss on the shoe of passerbyer from 3 feet away. However, Boone's party of one other person just wanted to stay curled up under the scraggily sheets of The Tops, the same musty and dusty walls of every other casino cornering and boxing them in from the heat with a barely functioning air conditioner. He coughed, sitting on a chair a few feet away from Rene, who ran her fingers through her brown hair that stuck to the old sheets by a static charge. With a groan and a small spark of anticipation, the girl sat up, the afternoon's light creeping in like fingers trying to grasp the hot and crummy dirt of the arid ground outside.

Her white, bloodstained top was drenched with sweat and the pants she wore were crumpled on the floor. Boone shook his head, the beret on top never moving, as if it was attached to his baldness or something. Crawling out of her once comfortable domain, Rene sat on the once cushiony flooring and dug through the worn backpack of hers, throwing a fresh set of clothes on the bed and quickly pulling the old ones off. Standing after what seemed to be an eternity, Rene stretched, her head messing with her again, giving her a morning migraine. Even after a sleep of 10 hours, she was tired. She was hungry, and skinny. Damn it.

"You've been asleep for quite a while now. We need to leave", Boone insisted. Rene turned to him, raising an eyebrow, but not asking why. However, she would not take orders from people equal to her- everyone was equal to her, but some were over-glorified or had their head stuck up their ass; Boone wasn't the former but could be the latter. Grabbing up her pack, she walked over to him, and sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"We're fine, Boone.. I'm just kind of tired", Rene assured him. Being as stubborn as he is, Boone firmly shook his head again in disagreement. It was almost like he was afraid of the unknown of what was to happen today.

"We should go. It's not right here; honestly", Boone folded his arms as he put his rifle upon his back. The same, duct taped stock as it always was stuck up just above his head. Rene was tempted to fix it for him; she was okay at fixing things and was curious of how things worked. Mainly, she cut stuff open, but he'd be pissed if she cut his rifle "open". Turning her gaze back to him, Rene was now perplexed as to why Boone was eager to leave.

"I said, we're fine.. but if you REALLY want to leave, tell me where we're going and I'll gladly go. I don't want to wander around the wasteland for no reason- especially near this northern area. There's Cazadores all over I-15 that leads to middle Nevada. There's lots of Deathclaws here, too", Rene politely argued back. Boone was slightly displeased at where this argument was going. It was like listening to Manny and Carla all over again. Thinking of a good reason to travel back south of Vegas, back near Novac, he remembered Nelson and how they had a Legion problem present. He also wanted to leave, simply because the Omertas and Chairmen gave Rene looks that he didn't enjoy seeing- his experience with the Legion gave his intolerance to people who disrespected women with rather carnal gazes.

"Nelson- I want to go there- its east of Novac, past the dinosaur and it's crawling with Legion. I last heard that they're holding a few NCR soldiers captive; may even be a leader of some sort there. I wanna put a bullet between their eyes", Boone flatly stated in his usual low and bassy voice. Rene understood his hatred for the poor, primitive fuckers. She hadn't even seen any kind of Legionnaire past the occasional recruit and explorer, but a "leader"? What'd they look like? Probably had some kind of cool armor and weapons.. things of that nature.

Getting a move on, Rene led Boone out of the room they had rented out for a night and quickly left The Tops, the rather ardent lovers of Gomorrah dancing half-naked in the streets like damned fools. But there was a small sense of respect for the working girls, they tried hard in what they did; almost too hard. All the girls needed was someone real to take care of them, and they could cook and clean and pleasure as much as they wanted instead of being teases and eye candy to the passerbyers who had a taste for diseased and drugged meat. Rene heard what the Omertas did to young things like her, and she avoided that place at all costs.

Maybe or maybe not the Mojave was a hellhole. It was a home, though, to many things and people. The city that never really died kept thriving with the sunset and chilled wind as Boone and Rene went along the streets of Freeside that smelled like shit. Everyone here needed a shower, but they were to be judgmental later, to judge the fate of the Legionnaires that they were set to kill. Boone had always told her that she wasn't to attempt any heroics, but she loved saving people.

Maybe she was a benevolent person and her rugged appearance threw her kindness off at times.


	3. Chapter 3

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter Three- Rage}

"Dammit, this place must be driving you insane", Rene growled at Boone as he unleashed hell's fury upon the Legionnaires who opposed him in his path of glory. He was charging like a zealot through paths of atheists, maybe if she gave him a cross, Boone would end up shoving it up their asses. He was being rather recursive with how he disposed of them by placing a bullet in their brain; it was his preferred way of dispatching targets, Rene guessed... she, however, personally enjoyed watching them bleed out. Waves of Legionnaires and their hounds descended upon them, but there were no worries there, just another thing to cut open as she always enjoyed doing. Maybe she could hold one hostage and cut him open while he was still alive?

Boone wasn't so sure of Rene's health; she was sicker and weaker every day. He wanted to protect her as much as he could without being so clingy. He'd seen people like her before in the NCR's hospitals, hooked up to pre-war tech. She must not have be that sick, at least not yet. She was nearly skin and bone and was always tired, like she had been stuck in a non-stop war for all of her life.

Lethargic people didn't prove well for combat.

But the last Legionnaire was dropped; even the ones up on the ridge in their little camp were taken out quickly. NCR soldiers were tied up to crosses in the center of Nelson, and Rene made her casual way over to them. Boone watched her walk non-chalantly, almost gently, as if to not scare the soldiers. Her small hands were seen undoing the tight knots the Legion had made to keep the soldiers up there, and all of them quickly dropped, a couple of them their knees. They thanked her.

"...NCR Snipers are expected to take out any prisoners of war. I'm glad you saw there was an alternative to this situation, Rene..", Boone said, hoping he pronounced 'Rene' right. He pronounced it as Reyne. It sounded so lackluster when he said it, though, and Rene just smiled at him. It was all she could do when she had barely mentioned her name to him. Boone kept his facade and moved on with the NCR soldiers, trudging up the hill to collect a reward with the savior of the three or four soldiers who could have untied their selves if they really wanted to.

Rene's name was rather popular among the soldiers of the NCR now, being known as an angel and a sweetheart... pet names. It was like another Tandy, only without the sexist remarks and such. Boone only hoped they wouldn't plaster her face and body on posters and money. It's like she made everyone late for church as she passed by in the streets. And when she smiled, it was like god himself ordered a weekend of free drinks at the bar.

Even he had to admit, the girl had looks. Nice, young face. Hazel eyes and tiny features, she was like a cute little doll; a popular target for looks that he hated being directed towards her. It wasn't like he was jealous of any man who managed to chat her up- he knew she liked him, she told him straight up and he was okay with that. But she didn't try anything.. for his sake, overall, a very respectful young lady. Rene was like the estranged daughter he didn't have.

As far as he remembered, Boone knew Carla was due to have a baby girl sometime in the next few months, if she were still alive. Maybe she'd have her blue eyes, or his green eyes. Maybe her hay-colored hair, or his brunette hair… she'd be named something pretty, like some sort of flower. Carla was enamored with the name Camilla, but Boone liked Kimberley. He'd never know this daughter, or if she was going to be tall or short or blonde or brunette.

Rene had hazel eyes, brunette hair, almost as if she was a mixture of the outcome of Carla and himself. Maybe Rene could give some form of comfort in the most discreet way, maybe just by being there for him. But Carla, he knew, never had left him in the first place.

The memories raced through him like a wave of ice water through his mind, numbing him. He wanted to kill another one of the bastard Legionnaires, wanted to see their blood pour. He wouldn't quit until they were a dead and forgotten name- Caesar's Legion. They were fucking morons trying to carve out a place in a hellhole that didn't belong to them. The NCR should have control of this place, not having a goddamned war with primitives, for God's sake!

Rene sighed as she saw Boone grumbling all the way to the top of the hill. She'd split the reward with him, and then use her share to buy him a few rounds at the nearest bar. He had a bad temper and hopefully, alcohol wouldn't make it worse.


	4. Chapter 4

Burning Vegas Lights

{Chapter Four- Red is only good on some people}

Rene sat up. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she looked around the room. It was dark, and cold and her sweat only made it worse. Pain seized her chest as she coughed, producing a mixture of phlegm and blood onto her shirt. Her extremities felt as if they were on fire, each and every nerve burning hellishly. Boone was asleep on the other side of the room, drunkenly passed out and dreaming through what would be an extreme hangover by the morning time; it was foolish of him to order more than five shots of vodka.

But it didn't matter.

"Boone..." she quietly croaked out. No response. Rene coerced herself to get up, to move or crawl or something over to him, to shake him awake from his subtle snoring and sleep talking. She coughed again, doubling over in pain, as if needles on fire were caught inside her lungs. Staggering weakly to her feet, she went over to him, threatening to collapse upon laying a gentle hand on his exposed shoulder.

"Rene, what is it?" he asked gruffly, his eyes not open or adjusted to the dark. The moon in the open window gave light to the situation, however, and he shot up quickly in fear. Boone caught light of her bloodstained mouth, shirt, and hands. His voice shook only for a second, wondering what the fuck was going on with Rene.

Rene coughed violently again, looking like she was going to die at this point, in which Boone grabbed her up and laid her back down on the bed as gently as he could. No, no, no. Lay her up slightly so she doesn't choke on her own blood, he told himself- it was what he learned when trying to save a soldier who was breathing blood or spitting it out, and Rene was doing both at the same time. He watched her tremble with fear and pain, he sure as hell didn't know what to do; except watch her closely, assure her she was going to be okay- but goddamn, there was a lot of blood she was coughing up. For sure, he knew she was sick now. But what in the world made her cough up blood?

She was quiet for a moment, the coughing having ceased for a good minute or two. Those minutes were important, he needed to know everything that was wrong with her, and he needed to find a doctor quickly. He wouldn't find her one within two minutes, but he could start writing the symptoms down on something so he could take her whenever she was feeling better.. if she got better.

"Rene. You need to tell me how bad your pain is and where it's coming from", Boone started with the most basic of procedures he learned and had used many times before. Rene writhed in pain and he held her down with his arm. She didn't give a clear answer, maybe she didn't answer at all but he could tell she was in horrible pain- it almost hurt him to see her like this. As she was coughing up blood, he guessed she was hurting in her chest.

"Boone… It… It hurts. I need a doctor, now. Please", she asked him as calmly as she could. He sat on his knees, wanting to yell for help when no one was there. Picking up Rene and hold her in his arms, he started off outside of the hotel room in Novac where Rene had rented, he was starting to hate this town for no good reason, and went in search of that doctor that had arrived prior to his original leave with Rene who now depended on him. Damn if the doctor wasn't here still, damn if Rene died in his arms, but that was all depressing talk- which, quite frankly, he didn't exactly need. No one seemed to be roaming the dusty and lonely streets of Novac, except for departing tumbleweeds on the road for nowhere.


	5. Chapter 5

Burning Vegas Lights

{Chapter Five- Cast}

It was almost like being dragged from cold and emptiness to warm, bright light once you were dead. Breaking through a third wall were the light was cracking, a silhouette could be seen- it was rather beautiful- and it was in the figure that Rene knew well; her elder sister Alice, whom had died three years prior, the cause was nothing short of being killed by the infamous chem fiends of the Mojave wastelands whose sands had claimed back the body of the once breathtaking auburn-headed lady. Alice was a medic for the NCR, who also took care of Rene when she was just a little girl, and was always a little girl to her. Her figure, not much dissimilar from Rene's {Slender, but taller, proportioned just enough to be somewhat healthy in the wasteland} was dressed in her uniform- the same canvas-like material that had been worn down over the years of working both the material and her hands down to the bone. Rene's small hand reached out to her sister's spread arms, as if going to bring her in for a warm embrace, however before she could even gracefully bound over to the compassionate and loving luminary-like figure of Alice, a wind cast her from the light and slammed her back to the ground so hard, she opened her eyes and felt the pushing of a doctor upon her chest and her back against a table cleared of all dining ware under a tent in Novac. Pushing Dr. Ada Strauss off of her, she sat up and invariably fell off of the table of which she was previously laid upon.

"Shit!" Rene exclaimed with a yell that could've woken up half of the Mojave. Her cursing wasn't helping the situation, only making Dr. Strauss want to stab her with some Med-X and an anesthetic. Boone quickly followed a few curious passerbyers in and looked down at Rene, wanting to scold her for scaring him. But Rene had first caught sight of her bloodied clothes in a pile on the ground next to her and her hands still stained with the blood she had coughed up earlier that night. She looked down at her new clothing {a simple tank top and cargo pants}, and tried to stand, but the medication she had received earlier was making her rather dizzy. Boone simply held her up.

Rene's chest still felt as if it was on fire; she missed the peace of the light that Alice had provided before the wind blew her away, back down to the godforsaken Earth she lived on. Maybe it just wasn't her time yet… and she pondered on whether or not to be grateful but in the end decided to be, just in case she was currently being judged by some higher deity. Rene almost looked half-crazed, blood smeared on her mouth, her hands, but the clothes she wore were clean. Boone didn't have the heart to tell her they had cut her chest open with a old scalpel about a few hours ago, but he could tell her what happened and what she had. Fuck, he murmured, Couldn't they just have given her medicine?

It seemed very unlikely that the doctor did what she had done- just cutting Rene's chest open like that. Maybe if they had an auto-doc on hand, yes, it'd be very probably- but they didn't and still whatever the fuck was killing Rene, they took out. Just a tumor is what they told him, but it could have been cancer of the lungs which seemed to be very common in the wasteland due to all the possible chemicals and toxins and radiation within the air that could've caused it, but they didn't know where the hell it came from, probably a heredity disease of sorts.. At first, they called it Tuberculosis, but then they saw the tumor that had formed within her lung, and right off the bat the doctor had changed her mind that it was some sort of disease on which they had advised Boone to see a Doctor Usanagi up near Freeside to visit, for further treatments… or if her stitches came undone. Not even God knew how scary that was, to see someone being lobotomized; especially someone like Rene.

Boone held up the writhing girl, trying to escape from his tight grasp. At this point, Rene was like a doped up fussy little child who needed a good smack or something to shut her up and then again he couldn't blame her for wanting to know what the hell they did to her. Holding her at his side, Boone's arms had a bit of trouble embracing her against his chest to hold her, and possibly stop her from ripping her stitches open that she was soon to find out about.

"Rene. Stop it, right now. You're going to tear your stitches apart or something!", he demanded. Her hazel eyes widened up at his green ones as she brushed her bangs out of her eyes and off to the side. Stitches? **Stitches?  
****  
**What the fuck did they do to me! Tell me right now or I won't hesitate to punch you in the freakin' face!", she screamed at him, to which was replied by a firm grasping of the shoulders and being held at a good distance away from the spotter who took her threats moderately and was cautious.

"They saved your goddamned life, Rene. They took out a tumor in your lung that would've killed you if it was stuck inside you any longer. Stop moving around so much, or you're going to end up hurting yourself severely", Boone stated in a sour tone. His words pierced her through and through and she looked like she wanted to cry at this point, to which he was angry still but didn't say a word. Rene's cheeks just burned with embarrassment; the truth hurt. But they cut her chest open, fucked around with her insides and hopefully placed everything in the right place.

If they didn't, it wasn't like there was any insurance claims to aid her in wrongful death that would most likely be caused by throwing herself around to try and wrench herself from Boone's grasp. Boone finally let her go and she stumbled slightly, from both the slight force he exerted and the drugs running rampant through her bloodstream. Rene tried to calm herself down, and running her hands through her ever-growing hair, she looked over at Boone.

"Am I going to become addicted to the shit they've got me on?" Rene asked in a tone to try and make her sound a little more grateful than before. Boone shrugged.

"Let's just go. We've got a lot of road to cover if we're going to head to the New Vegas Medical Clinic next- and you're paying for all these operations and stuff", He replied, still steaming from her little bout of carelessness and irrationality.

The sun had only begun to rise at this point, in which Rene knew it was going to get hot real quickly. Rene noticed Boone had her pack in which he had most likely gotten her new clothes from and so, she tried to reach up and dig through it as they were walking, in search of a purified bottle of water to down in place of the fluids she may have lost during her unexpected operation. Moving one of her hands up her shirt, she grimaced at the feel of thread holding her skin and possibly muscle together. It was so unnatural- just another thing in the Mojave to get used to. She'd have to get used to a lot of things.

Boone knew she had a while to go, she was still about six or seven years younger than he'd ever be. A while to go until she knew every little detail of the Mojave and the full horror- or wonder- of such a place like this. It was a hellhole, yes, but it was home to him and her, a home that treated them fairly so far.


	6. Chapter 6

Burning Vegas Lights

{Chapter Six- Let it burn}

It was never "rumored" that the eyes of Caesar were everywhere.

In fact, it was almost well known Caesar had Frumentarii everywhere, from the smallest of settlements to even the New Vegas Strip which lights flicked on about nine o'clock at night, when the sun wanted to rest below the Earth's horizon and the stars ha come out to trace the evening's sky despite the light that the Strip cast off and blanked out most of the stars- with even closer and more brilliant neon and washes of color. Rene stared up to the inkwell sky and picked out a few stars that shone the brightest to her, her chest expanding gently and breathing in the cold air that soothed her sore throat. The stars were like pieces of broken glass on the pavement and they sparkled like the waters of Lake Mead; and before Rene had lost her mother, the woman always told her daughter that she lived in the stars once, before she was born. And when Rene would die, she would return and soon begin again, in a better time.

Boone saw the Rene's interest with the skies but they both needed their eyes on the road in case of any type of ambush, attack… whatever the hell happened out here. Most attacks were done by raiders, unless they were traveling on Legion roads, which were mostly quiet- except for the Legion itself, who always had their heads up and at attention, waiting to go in for the kill of any type. Boone would've sworn he saw something lurk within the shadows of the night, watching them. And he wouldn't be surprised if there was someone or something watching him, whether it is a simple Bark Scorpion or worse. Resting the worn stock of his rifle against his shoulder, he aimed his site downward and made even sweeps across the road before whispering to Rene, catching her attention.

"Hey. Keep your eyes up, we might be on a Legion road at this point and I don't know what the hell just moved up ahead, and it's surely not a caravan", Boone asserted. The situation would quickly become dire if it was a party of Legion or Raiders, but if his suspicions were correct, then it would be the former of the two. Rene pulled out a .22 pistol, attempting to imitate Boone's careful eye by watching the road ahead with a full view. If someone were smart enough, they'd easily catch his bright red beret which automatically made both of them walking targets. She pointed a slender finger above her own head in silence, signaling if he could take his beret off.

"It's the last thing they'll never see, Rene", Boone said. It was true, he never did take his beret off, not even for the slightest reasons; for it was his history and mostly his life of which he threw away for a girl, young like Rene, and just as beautiful. These thoughts grated at the back of his mind, clawing their way to the surface. Boone pushed them all away, like a lighter burning the old photographs he had memorized of Carla. Smoldering the last bit of emotion he had in his eyes, he almost wished he had his shades on to silently weep for himself.

His sadness wasn't sensed by the nearly ubiquitous Frumentarius who stalked them among the shadows, just the way he reacted to the slightest sounds. All the little noises seemed to spark a murderous rage in him, confirming the man of the Bear's suspicions about traveling along the Legion roadways. Smirking devilishly to himself, the invisible Frumentarius watched the other man's companion walk beside him, checking behind her back for anything that could be of great harm to the pair. She did not seem to follow any doctrine, from the way she moved freely about- and the Frumentarius could change that very suddenly. But he wouldn't; not yet, or today.

Leaving the pair alone for now, the Frumentarius began his hourly prowl with the changing shadows of the glowing morning light that created warm cracks within the sky. Of course, he would file a report and show it to the great Caesar, who would find interest in the lone travelers, wandering around the Mojave during the waking hours of dawn. The red beret was a sight he hadn't seen for quite a while and it brought vigor to his mind to know that one of the legendary snipers would be one of his prey to follow, trick, and catch. The girl, though... he hadn't seen much of her, as she walked by the large soldier's side. He would have to keep her closer, however, if he wanted to hold onto her for a little while longer.

Boone yawned.

He needed to rest, but he pushed forward with an equally tired Rene at his side, dragging her feet with each level of fatigue she gained from the unearthly hours of travel they had accomplished together. Boone could nearly see a safe place to stop in sight... some where nearly familiar. While he hadn't ever been to it, there was Camp Golf in the distance with the waters of Lake Las Vegas at her side. As far as he was aware, the camp had fallen into much disarray and the really shitty soldiers got sent there now. Any place was better than no bed at all.

The roads soon became dusty and hot once again like the parched land that was evaporated of nearly all life. The Mojave wasn't too bad, if you got used to the extreme weather, Deathclaws, Cazadores, Legionnaires, and the other unruly gangs that ran rampant through its winding, brittle roads.

Rene hadn't been to a place like this, Boone remembered from what little story she gave him of her life from New Reno. New Vegas was completely different, nearly unfriendly, but still inviting in the hostile manner of it wanting to consume you and leave a broken corpse within the sands. While of course they had been to New Vegas for a miniature vacation of which they promptly left, she hadn't seen the backbone of the southern tip of Nevada. And surprisingly, she had never followed the NCR's rule or example. New Reno was New Vegas' abusive, drug-dealing, whoremonger and sinfully lustful transsexual mother- a rough spot to grow up in, Boone had decided.

And yet, Rene seemed to be pure, besides the rare drug use. Tripping light is what she called it, and apparently it was amazing to see the colours fly by you at light speed if you used the right drugs in the cities. Boone denied her of any more drug usage after their conversation that occurred a while back, and he wouldn't be doing any either. Boone did enjoy drinking, yes, but never had he done drugs.

_Damn, I could use good tequila right now_, Boone grumbled under his breath.


	7. Chapter 7

Burning Vegas Lights

{Chapter Seven- Interrogation}

Rene watched the ground come up quickly to kiss her face as she fell hard, trying to duck under the hail of bullets that were meant for them, coming from the rifles and SMGs that burped them out with lurid aiming that only made the situation more dangerous for her. Boone held his hunting rifle high against his shoulders, taking out the dogs that only belonged in Hell for all the sordid things they had unfortunately accomplished over the years. He kept his aim tight, and one shot slipped out after another, planting a bullet within a Legion Recruit's head. Boone never wondered where all these Legionnaires came from, only where they would be sent, regardless of their either moral or immoral beginnings within the sole root of any kind of resolute evil within the oven-like desert. Rene kept her head down, letting Boone accomplish whatever he saw fit, which was just adding a hole to their head.

Her chest, still not fully healed from the carmine operation that Boone recalled as grizzly, was filled with pain and she wheezed slightly every now and then, as if she was losing air fast. Rene blinked away dust and dirt, the sand seemingly forever warm here, not matter the season or if there were forgiving and cold winds that blew across the November lands. Boone kept firing shots, eventually taking a few in the shoulder and thigh.

"Dammit", he grumbled, nearly unmoved by the stinging wounds of pierced flesh beneath his plain clothing. Quickly reloading more bullets into his rifle he kept firing upon the horde of hell-bound monsters that were bent on taking him to their concentration camps of slaves- God only knew what they were going to do with Rene if they ever got a hold on her. Boone looked down at the girl for a fraction of a second before seeing a flamboyantly armored Centurion charging at him with a Super-sledge in hand, with a ferocious glare in his eyes. Boone smacked him with the butt of his rifle, sending teeth and blood flying across the sand. Standing over the Centurion who started to recover from falling to his knees, Boone swiftly kicked him over and crushed his throat with the bottom of his boot.

Rene stood up, stumbling slightly, and went over to the bodies to examine each one, possibly finding supplies, ammo, money- anything they would need as they had stayed in Camp Golf the night before and hadn't filled out a requisition form for supplies and repairs. Her hands found themselves digging into the pockets of the men who had tried to kill her and Boone, her fingers reaching deep into the hard-cases of armor they wore that contained anything from Healing Powder or Denarius to Aurelius. The coins glinted in the light with the face of Caesar on one side and a Bull on the other, inscribed with _Pax per Bellum_. The saying intrigued her interest, wondering what it meant... Boone would probably know through his extensive studies of the Legion, Rene thought. Bringing an Aurelius over to him, Rene stood on her tiptoes to gain his attention.

"What's this mean?" Rene asked, pointing to the inscribing of the Roman words. Boone glared at it for a minute; remember what a Ranger had told him once. Apparently, it meant Peace through War- a futile statement that was completely ironic. Rene drew the coin back into her pocket as she spotted the Centurion's helmet, prying it off of his head and placing it on her own as Boone watched her struggle to keep the thing on. His voice carried on the wind over to Rene, who seemed completely enamored with starting a new fashion statement.

"Means Peace through War, but they'll never want peace, Rene, the first choice is always war until they get their way. They're like a bunch of spoiled children who're squabbling over the land that the NCR rightfully owns, as they settled it a long time ago", Boone told her. Rene knew how passionate he was about the NCR's moral and good it seemed. In New Reno, all they ever wanted was sex from the hookers in the streets; almost seemed like the same damn thing in New Vegas. What was good about them, she had asked herself many times before. But she knew Bone could lecture her for hours about the good things they did… never the bad things.

Or was he secretly hinting at a darker underside by recognizing the good things they did, which seemed to be everything that their actions seemed to make waves in. Rene betted that he was hiding something secret that the NCR had done in the past, it was like she knew he hadn't told her everything about him but he had managed to let her information seep from her lips. What the hell kind of game was he playing?

"Why is the NCR the only good thing here?" Rene queried. His eyes lit up slightly with a piqued interest in her question, and he knew he had spilled all the good things about the NCR. Maybe he'd fucked up by doing that, trying to tell her that the NCR was the only right path, but then again, it was really the only favorable path... for her. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as he was thinking of what to say to her as she put her hands on her hips. This... was going to be hard to explain to her without seeming even more suspicious- for no reason at all.

"Well… they're not all good and decisive in their actions, for example, the current president wasn't a very good choice", Boone stated to start his reprimand of his former statement about the NCR that still seemed to love Rene dearly, in all her actions she had done for them, all by Boone's influence. This topic was rather shaky and on unidentified grounds of some morale to be lost within Rene for the NCR, but it was worth a shot to try and correct the slightly over-zealous accounts. Her eyes demanded answers as if she deserved them, like he was untruthful. It killed him to see her like this, it killed him to know he had controlled her life for the while they had been acquainted.

But it was suitable, had had told himself during the moment she was expecting more than just the President was a major fallacy. He didn't want to mercy-kill her among the other slaves that the Legion had kept, he didn't want to see her charging towards him with a drug-riddled mind and body, to which he'd have to dispose of by a quick-shot to the heart. Boone was raising her as he saw fit for her, and it was working out so far... she had a good name for herself in a very powerful but was somewhat impotent in their recursive propaganda campaign posters. They had everything fit for her and it wasn't going to change.

"..and there was Bitter Springs, three years ago. It was a small Great Khan encampment...", He stopped mid-sentence, correcting himself with a sharp breath of un-comfortableness, "No, It was their home… I was with First Recon at that place. The NCR had tracked some Khans to there, after they had quite a few quarrels in the past. They had improper intel, and thought it was a huge raider camp. They wanted us to block any attempts of escape, and if they even tried, they would be shot down, even the wounded couldn't get out of the bloodbath".

_Home_, Rene thought. Children came to mind, and women and their fathers lived there. From that, she understood what happened 'three years ago'. She didn't make a move to speak, only to get a move on away from the site of attack attempted by the Legion. Boone saw the slight shock and horror upon her realization, and spoke more of what was rather much a tragedy.

"The NCR didn't understand what we were seeing, only what they were hearing over the shitty radio they had provided for use to use, and they told us to keep firing, until we ran out of ammo to use against them", Boone explained.

_So I left, and you're dragging me back into the reality that I tried so hard to keep out._


	8. Chapter 8

Burning Vegas Lights

{Chapter Eight- Penultimate}

The bright sun flooded into Rene's vision as she clung to Boone, who held her in his arms as she coughed up more blood, keeping her head tucked under his chin and her chest tightly wrapped in his free arm while he fired off rounds at the small Legion hunting party that came after them once more, looking for something to kill and another thing to make a slave. With his skilled marksmanship, he hit a few of the Legionnaires in the head- as it was usually preferred to make a kill- and they dropped as soon as the bullet hit them. The New Vegas Medical Clinic was only a few yards away, and the Legion was attacking so close to the damn gate of Freeside and the walls of New Vegas? He knew they could be suicidal but this was insane, tracking just two people all the way to New Vegas, in NCR Territory for that matter. He pulled the trigger of Rene's pistol, still holding the girl who wanted to keel over with fits of coughing that was hard to keep under control.

Laying Rene down, she automatically struggled to her knees as Boone put both hands on his pistol and ended the life of all their assailants. He rushed back over to Rene, picked her up into both of his arms as the pistol dropped to the ground and he made a break for the clinic, not caring if the Legionnaires were all dead yet- the Clinic was so close, and she couldn't hold out longer. Frantically opening the door to the old yet operational clinic, Doctor Usanagi looked over and saw the look on Boone's usually chiseled face before calmly motioning him to the back where they always had a surgery table prepped. However, Boone was shooed from the room as the doctor removed Rene's clothing and got her ready for surgery, as Boone sat down in the chairs in the waiting room, on edge.

He was covered in her blood from chest to stomach, and he didn't care. Boone impatiently wringed his hands together and waited for the news- good, or bad… but that mattered. He kept his head down, and stared at the dirty tiling of the floor, slipping into his thoughts once more that he usually denied himself of. Carla riddled his mind and Rene's shadow cast upon the white walls stained with the blood of the Khans he had _murdered_. He watched the bullet sail into between Jeannie-May's eyes and shatter her glasses, letting her blood water the ground.

Water pricked behind his eyes but he sat up and held it back.

Another person was going to die because of him- and all he could do was offer his own a sarcastic laugh and wallow in self-pity of the dire situations he had suffered. Most of it was psychological trauma that wasn't deserved, but yet, he always thought he deserved the bad luck piled upon his shoulders. Rene should've kept far away from him… he shouldn't of held her in regard.

Did it really matter in the end, though, on the regards of whether or not he cared? Boone wasn't for sure; he wanted to close his eyes and hoped he died in his sleep at this point. Rene coughing up blood again shook him to the point of caring again and here she was, dragging his name back into the NCR when he had tried once to escape and he prevailed. But now, he couldn't think of just dumping her in the middle of the Mojave or in New Vegas, even- it was just too dangerous- as if she had become his responsibility over night... or over the past month or so.

***

Rene laid on the metal, blood covered table in a drug induced sleep that blocked her mind off from the rest of the world around her, which was actually pretty silent considering there were a lot of dead or injured people within the Mojave; and she could have been a part of that statistic.. If it weren't for Boone. She cared for him as much as she could without seeming completely enamored with him and of course; she did like him more than "just as a friend", to the best of her explanations. But she kept that thought contained in locked metal box in her mind like she tried to lock away her drug use and temptations to try alcohol for an anti-depressant. Boone had taught her that life wasn't meant to be lived fast- and drugs and alcohol led to a swift and abrupt end.

Her dreams were filled to the brim with vivid images of the re-occurring battles with the Legion that they seemed to be having, but in the end, each one died, as usual. It was rather lackluster for a dream, but it meant something to Rene, meant something was going to happen soon. In her dreams, she stood above all of the Legionnaire's bodies but one, who was at her side and frozen in time like a photograph of a once-moving body. Her fingers reached out to it, and he fell into the ground like water.

Rene soon awoke, finding herself staring into the bright, overhead lights hung up by the physicians of the New Vegas Medical Clinic and gunfire cracking out in the next hallway.


	9. Chapter 9

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter Nine: Golden}

She was absolutely beautiful up close, now that he could see her.

Long locks of brunette hair, hazel eyes; small features; her nose contrasted it slightly, but contrasted it in a way to make her have an ethereal beauty. The dying light glowed upon her face and gave a glow to her natural pale skin which was somehow, unburned by the harsh rays of the Mojave sun. The Frumentarius, whom wore a dog upon his head, was interrupted in his musings by the abrupt silence out in the hallway on which he traveled out, but was in danger of meeting face-to-face with an injured, but well-working sharpshooter, who had every intention to let the Legion burn, letting the burn eventually reach Caesar in his little fort on top of Fortification Hill. Boone stood ready, as if the world was going to take him on but it was just the Frumentarius who approached and dared try to challenge him.

The Frumentarius charged at him, fists and teeth glaring straight at Boone, who retaliated as much as he could without any training in hand-to-hand combat, or melee, for all that it mattered. The glint of a machete caught Boone's eye in the power struggle, to which the Frumentarius lunged and grabbed for it. Boone pounced onto the Frumentarius, ripping his dog off of his head with great force and holding him to the ground.

"You…You're a bastard, trying to think you could kill me, to think you could kill Rene!" Boone snapped at the Vexillarius, whose blue eyes looked up at the sharpshooter in spite. He lips played a cruel and perverse smirk at the room in which Rene lay, completely vulnerable to the outside world in her Med-X and Morphine medically-induced coma. Boone punched the man in the mouth, wanting to knock some of his teeth down his throat, and he managed to shake a canine loose.

"The eyes of the mighty Caesar have been upon both of you. Specifically, Rene Ward", the Vexillarius spat out at him, attempting to sit up under Boone's weight, which led to Boone punching him in the mouth again, shaking loose another tooth. The Vexillarius spat blood into Boone's face, and Boone lifted him up by his armor as much as he could and slamming his back to the wall, wondering who the fuck this bitch was. Boone's sunglass-shielded eyes glared into the Vexillarius', demanding answers that were all too common. Seeing as how his cover was already blown and his facial identity revealed, he delivered answers to the sharpshooter.

"I am Vulpes Inculta of Caesar's Legion, and you need not know more to understand the power I possess", Vulpes smirked again, and swiftly kicked Boone in his stomach, causing him to double over and cough wildly as Vulpes left the main lobby, kicking chairs out of the way and stepping over dead bodies, trying to get his way back into the surgery room. Rene, however, had disappeared within the timeframe of Boone confrontation with Vulpes, and was hiding in the shadows with a scalpel. Not a very sharp one, but still something to be used as a weapon. Her nude body crouched, watching Vulpes' feet move around the floor. Slicing the fucker's Achilles tendon was no longer an option, as he was armored.

Vulpes caught sight of the girl crouching, and promptly grabbed for her neck, pinning her against the wall and nearly choking her to death- letting up some as he noticed the stitches between her breast that had been almost healed but left a rather large scar in their fading place. Rene stared Vulpes down, remembering how they took her and her mother from her tribe, and crucified the most of them along the Interstate 40 leading from Dry Wells, Arizona. Since then, her hair was cut off at the age of 10 and had grown back from which the elaborate dreadlocks had once resided among her head- but now was a part of the erased "tribal identity" she once had. New Reno was just the town she had fled to after reaching Cottonwood Cove- and Vulpes was set on tracking her down again- for still an unknown reason why she meant so much. His hand on her throat loosely held her there, but he grabbed tightly every so often.

"Rene, it's been too long. You've… grown, quite a bit", He hinted with delight and the same perverse smirk he gave out in the hallway. He kept his eyes on hers though, watching the girl silently break with fear. Stepping forth, he closed the space between them, and whispered gruffly in her ear.

"You're going to die when I'm through with you, or you will break down to nothing and become my subservience once more, as you were nearly five months ago!", Vulpes growled and slammed her shoulders against the wall. Rene closed her eyes and held her head away, waiting for the abrupt fall as Boone grabbed Vulpes back and slammed the machete into his throat. Rene did indeed fall, and she curled up and watched blood squirt and gush from Vulpes Inculta's slashed carotid artery and jugular veins. Boone promptly turned and went in search of some clothing for Rene, finding some in a cabinet before throwing them to her.

"We're leaving. Now", Boone told her and helped her up as soon as Rene slid on the clothing. Rene was simply silent at this point, knowing she was to be questioned later on about her accounts with Vulpes and her origins which were yet to be determined by Boone. The short walk to Freeside was filled with silence, until they had reached the settlement's gates, alive with color yet provided a hint of downtroddence on the other side- of which Boone and Rene were familiar with.

Boone's façade never wore off, no matter the occasion and this was no different. His eyes looked upon her, almost bearing pity for her but he needed to know how she knew a goddamned Legionnaire, how she could've gotten both of them killed. Rene stared back at him, knowing that he had something to say about Vulpes.

"I… belonged to a tribe. They're a name that doesn't exist anymore but we lived in Dry Wells, Arizona, before agreeing to become scouts for the Legion. They turned on us, and then they enslaved my mother and I and a few others before they crucified the rest of them along the Interstate 40, leading to and from Dry Wells. I escaped from the Legion at Cottonwood Cove, and when I had turned 18 a few weeks before we had met, they were selling women and girls like me, and then something happened. I don't know what, but someone died and it caused a great diversion for me to get away. I had to leave mother behind.. and I don't know my dad- maybe you killed him already", Rene stated in her voice that leaked with nothing but history that was illusive to Boone. He felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Carla and Rene had belonged to the Legion. Carla and Rene... they were both slaves who were in the same grouping.

Boone's throat tensed up as Rene went on, and he eventually stopped her, and crouched down to her level {as she was only about 5'1"} and put a hand on her shoulder. Rene looked at him curiously, wondering what he needed to know now. Her past had been revealed, at least the important parts had been, and he stared firmly into her eyes that threatened to drop some tears. He needed to get every bit of information she had on Carla and he would repay with as much understanding as he could muster.

"_Once, there was this woman…"_


	10. Chapter 10

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter Ten: No Plan B}

The Vegas lights burned brightly, and reflected off the wet pavement and painting pedestrians in beautiful, venereal colors that once glowed with an equally beautiful skyline that had long since disappeared. The western sun dipped below to just where it was above the skyline, holding position until it soon fell asleep and rose upon the other side of the earth. Rene stared up, still amazed by the technology that was still very potent despite its age, and captivated her attention. Music crackled over the loudspeakers set up around the strip, playing Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra... the classics of the 40's that belonged to a rather younger age. Letting her mind wander, Boone watched her amazement and cracked a rare smile, though it was small.

All throughout their trip of Freeside, she had given him a sense of peace, yet brought back the topic of Carla, of which was to be usually avoided. He never once stated it was his wife... but Rene knew that she had some connection to Boone, maybe a sister, or a friend. The woman was beautiful, and she had the prettiest hair ever and her eyes were absolutely blue. Only Boone would know how much she actually meant... how much the little girl would have meant. And for that, Boone's smile dropped.

He needed to quickly plan how to get the goddamn Legion out of the picture- and fast. He could almost taste the war approaching, the war that had been building up since the first battle for Hoover Dam, and he could tell Rene wanted to get in on the action. But first things first; he had to get Caesar out of the picture and then all of his top lieutenants. He would have to kill every able-bodied soldier in the encampment at Fortification Hill; and he had just the plan to take undertake something as this.

The sniper rifle on his back was still as old as ever but he would put it to great use. Rene, though, he couldn't just dump her out in New Vegas during a war. Boone closed his eyes as Rene dragged him along trying to get her out of his mind. He didn't need extra luggage trying to weigh him down. Boone sure as hell didn't need Rene to help him.

Boone's mood automatically turned to a sordid one and he gently took Rene's hand from his arm.

"…Rene, we need to catch a place to sleep. It's late, I'm tired, and sleep is a rare and precious commodity", Boone told her, his acid tone slipping into his words some. He noticed how demanding he seemed and quickly went quiet again as Rene raised an eyebrow to him, but took his advice, wondering why he seemed so edgy as of late- but it could've been the whiskey getting to him. Careful what you say is all he could tell himself at this point, as he led her to the Ultra-Luxe. Even Rene noticed that he was acting like a gun was to his head or he was going to be pushed down a flight of stairs.

At the door, they were required to relinquish their weapons to which Boone simply handed his rifle over- reluctantly. He hated all the rich bastards here, but after Rene making a murder scene at The Tops and Gomorrah just wasn't his place, and Rene didn't belong there either. Vault 21 was also a viable option- but enclosed spaces like that just made Rene nervous.

For the inflated price of 300 caps a night, it was going to be a short, one-night stay and they'd have to check out in the morning time. He'd be gone... But Rene, she'd be safe here, she'd find someone to travel with, or maybe she could join up with the NCR; the possibilities with her were nearly endless- but he forbade her from shaking her ass in a sleazy bar or selling herself on the streets. She was one of the most intelligent people he had met.

But he couldn't let her go._  
_


	11. Chapter 11

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter 11- Power}

The sun rose just above the edge of the mountains in the distance of the East. Boone was on his stomach, rifle ready to take the shot as he waited for Caesar to emerge from his personal tent, and to sit upon his throne, only hoping that he didn't have his scope reflecting his position. A smirk laced Boone's lips as he sat there, waiting, holding his breath every so often as his heart beat on with the heat of the moment that was going to pay off for the future. No one man... they shouldn't have all that power, not the power to control all of the Mojave with an autocratic-slaver society. They seemed to be surviving solely off the commodity of slaves and war, however, their society needed to be put down, once and for all. For Rene. For Carla.

It was about six o'clock of the morning by the time something started stirring within the Fort's central command tents, with high-ranking officers taking their places at the side of the speared throne that specifically belonged to the old bastard himself- and he was going down on his own throne. Clearing his mind of all thoughts, he practiced on holding his breath to control his aim and making sure he didn't have to fire more than once. Keeping his eye in his scope, he just waited for the moment of glory. Boone waited for the minute that their fuck-up of a government to cease breathing.

Boone's heart pounded with pride, with glory, and idea of how the Fort would go up in flames with the single ringing of a shot. And before he could wait any longer, the steps of Caesar were being taken to his throne, as he did every morning, only this would be the last sunrise he would ever see- and maybe he could join Vulpes in hell. Sitting upon his throne for what would be the last time, Boone pulled the trigger. It was beautiful the way his blood spattered all over his Legionnaires, and some of the canvas walls of the tent he resided in.

Rene slid down the side of the hill into the water below, watching the top part of the Fort literally go up into flames as she hit the detonator for over 30 bricks of C4, the boom nearly shaking all of the Earth's ground. Boone peered into his scope at the waters of Lake Mead, and saw Rene, floating gently on the water. She didn't know his exact position, but she waved in the general direction of west. His smirk brightened with mirth at watching the Fort burn. From what was left of the Earth-shattering boom, the Fort was torn a new one- the Legion was torn a new one, and the evidence was there to see, a burning hill.

It took Rene quite a while to reach shore, but by the time she did, the heat of the Mojave was welcomed as it dried her off slowly, finally having a reason to bask in the merciless sun. Boone had a pre-designated "rendezvous spot", as he called it, and Rene would have to trek all the way there. Boulder Beach Campground was the place they had decided on, and it would take a while to reach, unfortunately. She only hoped Boone wasn't apprehended by the Legion already- but from where he was perched, it'd be quite impossible to find the Sniper, and find the assailant of both the Fort and a huge part of Caesar's Legion- about 57% of it. It was amazing, watching the Fort burn and it was her idea to salvage up some gas-canisters and loot the Van Graff's shop in Freeside, the latter being the hardest part of the mission.

The day itself had led to something quite amazing, as Rene had also never seen fireworks before.

Boone was at the campground by 9:00, much to Rene's dismay. She had been worried the past few hours, but remembered that he was perched up in the mountains, where it was impossible to determine where a sniper was- but also hard to get down from. He looked rather calm at this point, and not exhilarated as Rene had been. Upon further approach, he noticed there was a sizeable laceration upon her forehead, and he promptly wiped the blood from her head. There was a lot of shrapnel that fell... it could've hit Rene and cut her. He was just lucky the explosion didn't catch up with her- that was pretty sizeable as well, but brilliant.

Gently patting her wet head, Rene gave a half smile of appreciation of silent recognition for her work. Boone just smirked, and looked back at the dying flames of the Fort in the distance- that sure would get the NCR's morale up by a lot. He almost wanted to laugh with joy of how perfect it seemed to be- all this mindless slaughter of the Legion.

But there was never an end for their torture, was there? Slave camps existed, and due his extensive knowledge of the Legion, they had the whole goddamned state of Arizona in their clutches... Rene's state. Liberating that would come when the NCR gained more power, but for now, things needed to quiet down, and Rene wasn't getting any better, although her condition improved very much from when she had visited Dr. Usanagi- it was a shame the doctor had died due to the Legion fuckers, but maybe she would be accounted for due to the half extinction of the Legion in the Mojave Wasteland. Boone sure as hell knew that Carla and Rene could rest easy now... but Rene, though, should stay in his presence- he almost demanded it now. She really was the daughter he never had.

His thoughts always pressed on wanting to have her more than thought of as a close friend; however, it would complicate things too much, and if something bad were to happen, then it would cause unnecessary grievances- most likely weighing Boone down since Rene was always at risk. So he kept her at distance, but close enough to know she was welcome in his arms. Boone stored a good amount of trust in her... but he had to remember, he instilled the good morale of the NCR within her as well. He molded her into a model NCR figure- and her name stuck out like a sore thumb.

Rene did make everyone late for church as she passed by on the streets, and he was proud of her for that.

But there were always battles to fight, and for quite a while, the Legion's tension with the NCR had been rising rapidly and this most likely blew the cap off for everyone, almost like breaking a fever. There would be another push at the Dam, for sure, and this time they needed every ounce of strength, swiftness, intelligence, and bravery. Boone looked to Rene, and knew exactly the figure to give every quality of a good soldier to the NCR.


	12. Chapter 12

Burning Vegas Lights  
{Chapter 12- Omega}

They quickly pushed the metal table on wheels throughout the hallways of the Dam, trying to find the nearest makeshift medical center. Doctors lined up around her, pushing her limp and seemingly lifeless body past soldiers with grave looks of Rene's bloody face, her eyes slowly flickering with pain as it felt like fire was engulfing her extremities once more. The familiar feeling of death…or as Rene called it, Alice's Embrace. She could almost imagine people telling her to not follow the light, but it wasn't light at first... just dark, until the walls started to crack and then leak with the sought after warmth of light. Boone quickly followed in rapid succession behind the nurses and the doctors, wanting to see Rene. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay, and he damn well knew it was going to be.

Only a few hours ago, she was kicking the Legate's ass at extreme hide-and-go-seek.

Within her hidden steps she placed mines that were always rigged to blow upon someone stepping near them- that was the beauty of proximity technology and Rene used it for the good of everyone having to deal with that son-of-a-bitch... who, quite menacingly, was about 7'2" or so and a young girl had stood up to him and claimed his goddamn head as a trophy. She had bullet wounds in her, mostly flesh wounds, but there was some that were still stuck in her- most her legs, and sides. There was even one in her arm and shoulder. It wasn't the bullets he was worried about... it was the dehydration and the threat of bleeding out. A few soldiers caught up to Boone, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey, let me go!" He growled at them, before Colonel Cassandra Moore stepped up, to which he stopped his bitching and stood tall, saluting. Her short, blonde hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, and she saluted back to the sniper. Putting a gentle hand on the soldier's shoulder, he looked up at her, almost frantic-like.

"Sir, you know she's a hero, right? You both are", Colonel Moore commented with her usual stoic façade. She seemed to be a bit airy in the way she spoke though, and that nearly amused Boone. From what he barely remembered of the good colonel was she was a hard-ass bitch, and he respected that. But here, she was showing the more respectful side of her he wanted to see, from what little he had ever seen of her. Looking upon the red beret, Colonel Moore nodded curtly.

"Looks nice on you. You still in First Recon, soldier?" She asked, to which Boone replied with a no. Boone guessed he had to converse with the colonel, but it'd be better if he was conversing with Colonel Hsu- a more friendly and familiar face.

"So... this Rene of yours", The Colonel continued, "She's sure as hell something special, and we could use a goddamned army of her. We could have an army of both you and her, in all actuality, and all of our problems would be solved. You should sign her up for the NCR's Army... or better yet, you two should join First Recon together".

Boone looked at Colonel Moore, as if she was slightly deranged, to which the Colonel's face dropped the enthusiasm.

"With all due respect, ma'am, Rene has been through the washer trying to make a military career. I highly doubt she'll want to join the Army, let alone become a Ranger or try out First Recon sharpshooting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to check up on her right about now", Boone told her, and promptly left. They always wanted to waste great talent, didn't they?

He had to find the room in which Rene was being held. Looking hastily, and eventually asking for directions, a soldier led him to the medical room of which an operation was being performed upon Rene. _Oh god… not this shit again_, Boone murmured to himself. It was becoming quite redundant, but necessary it seemed. But it looked as if they were only extracting bullets and providing fluids, maybe even removing her stitches and putting ointment on her scars. She'd be covered in Band-Aids, but she'd be okay. Everything was fine.

But nothing seemed right. It was too silent, and the doctors... they were working at haste.

Rene lay on the operating table, under the knife, once again. She was struggling to get out of Alice's embrace, her sister wanting to hold onto her for as long as she could. Rene saw the members of the Twisted Hairs tribe, and their crucifixions were empty. She could almost feel cool rain upon her skin, and the wind in the breeze of Arizona, which smelled of pure desert.

It was like tripping light, but this time, the Mojave was going to claim her body- she was almost for sure of it. She'd be buried in the wildly blown sands caused by the monstrous dust storms, weathering away her bone into the dust that she most likely once came from. But she had done the Mojave some good despite her upbringings… and for that, which put her at ease.

"But, what of Craig?" Rene asked, her voice trembling in the echoes of the lights. Alice smiled, which meant nothing to Rene. She demanded answers to the ethereal form of her sister at this point, wanting to know what was to happen to him.

"Tell me, dammit!"

Alice's gentle face was scorned now. She stepped back from Rene, letting her out of the grasp she had contained her in. Looking into the eyes of all the women and men of the Twisted Hairs tribe, Rene saw their elaborate hair designs and remembered the past- during the Legion, the conflicts, the first battle of Hoover Dam. She remembered Carla, who always was talking of a husband of whom she missed dearly, and in the fog, her figure stood... but with a child in hand. The feeling of her fingers running through Rene's growing hair was familiar, like a motherly touch. Alice watched her sister for the slightest hint of wanting to be with her again, and Rene's face was nulled of any emotion. The touch of Carla seemed to evaporate, and as did the figures of her tribal family.

Alice stood with Rene, the woman's ethereal appearance shattering like glass before her, leaving her in the light alone. For a moment, she wandered around, wanting to know what the hell to do at this point. And before long, the immense fall occurred. But this time, it was like limbo; almost unending.

During the last few moments, Boone watched Rene's hazel eyes open, for what seemed like for the first time.


End file.
